


Caesura

by brynnmck



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-16
Updated: 2006-10-16
Packaged: 2017-12-14 17:21:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/839417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brynnmck/pseuds/brynnmck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>A soft voice cuts into his internal rant.  "Hey, Dean."</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Caesura

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little bit of Dean/Layla for [](http://thomasina75.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://thomasina75.livejournal.com/)**thomasina75** , as a late birthday gift. Spoilers for "Faith," and extremely (I mean _extremely_ ) vague ones for S2.

Dean drums his fingers on the dingy diner tabletop, shifts restlessly and winces when the cracked pleather seat beneath him digs into his ass. He can't stand silence and stillness these days, just wants to _go_ , wants the road and a job and the feeling of direction, but Sammy had insisted on stopping for a fucking piece of pie even though they're in Bumfuck, Nebraska and the pie probably sucks, and then Sam hadn't even ordered anything, just disappeared with some lame excuse about going to the bathroom, and if he's not back in the next five minutes he's going to wish the toilet had swallowed him like he'd always been afraid it would when he was little, because Dean is in no mood for his little brother's bizarre impulses at the moment.

A soft voice cuts into his internal rant. "Hey, Dean."

He turns a little, looks up, sees golden hair and a sweet smile and stops breathing for a second. A little paler, a little thinner than when he'd last seen her, but she'd been given six months about seven months ago and so just seeing her alive and smiling is like someone handing him the moon; he's not quite sure what to do with it.

"Layla," he manages, stunned. "What're you doing here?"

She lifts a shoulder, slides into the seat across from him. "Sam called me, told me you were going to be in the area. I thought I'd say hi."

He's not sure whether he's going to smack Sam or thank him for this, but he is feeling kind of guilty about the toilet-monster thing now. "Wow. You look…"

"Alive?" she fills in, grinning, and he seriously does not get her, how she can smile like that after everything she's been through. "The tumor's in remission, for the moment at least." She drops her eyes, a little shy. "Looks like maybe your prayers were answered."

"That's…" Nothing quite seems adequate. "That's great, Layla. That's amazing." _Miraculous_ , he won't say, even to her, but the smile that spreads across his face might be the first genuine one he's given anyone besides Sam in weeks.

"Thank you," she says. She reaches across the table, lays a hesitant hand on his forearm. Involuntarily, he takes a deep breath, feeling the tightness in his chest ease, the warmth seeping out from her fingers. Her voice is gentle. "Sam tells me you've had a rough time lately."

He shrugs awkwardly. "Yeah. It's… kind of a long story."

"And you don't want to talk about it." It's not a question. There's no judgment in her tone, just a fondness that he can't quite imagine he deserves, considering everything.

He wrinkles his nose, one side of his mouth quirking up, rueful. "Not really, no."

"OK," is all she says. Then, "Want to go cow-tipping?" she asks suddenly, her smile wicked now, and it startles a laugh out of him.

" _You_ can take out a _cow_?" he asks, disbelieving. She can't be more than a hundred pounds soaking wet.

She raises an eyebrow. "Are you underestimating me, Dean Winchester?"

Well, when she puts it that way… "Hell, no," he says honestly. Actually, he's kind of enjoying the mental picture, and it's tempting to see how she'll pull it off; at the moment, though, he's not feeling like he wants to go much of anywhere. "But that's a little closer to nature than I usually like to get." She looks a little disappointed, so he adds, "I could go for a piece of pie, though."

She shifts the hand on his forearm, links her fingers through his, her face lit up like a blessing. "Me, too," she says, and he raises his free hand to signal the waitress.


End file.
